


The Gein Memes

by Polterglitch



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Bath salts, Cannibalism, Decorating, Demons, Dismemberment, Drugs, Ed Gein - Freeform, Gen, I Was High When I Wrote This, Killing, Memes, Murder, Nanomachines, Regret, Violence, What Was I Thinking?, cannibal armstrong, cherry blossom, green alternate demon monsoon, magic mushrooms, metal gear rising
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:42:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23704810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Polterglitch/pseuds/Polterglitch
Summary: Senator Armstrong and Monsoon accidently get high on bathsalts and decide in their intoxicated state to redecorate the Japanese garden with inspiration from Ed Gein memes.
Kudos: 2





	The Gein Memes

**Author's Note:**

> I was high as fuck on amphetamines when I wrote this years ago, it was about the same time it was reported that people were getting high on bath salts and having cannibalistic urges, hence the bath salts thing. Remember the 'zombie' in Florida eating a homeless guy's face? Google it! Why people would want to get a buzz from bath salts though, I don't know but it seemed to inspire me in my phet induced psychosis.

"Grr... fuck you..." a battered Raiden muttered through gritted teeth after being beaten by Armstrong for the 100th time.   
Damn, he was tough on Revengeance mode. Raiden had been retrying him for hours determined to get nothing less than the perfect S rank but to no avail. He was exhausted, frustrated and badly wounded. He needed a few hours to recharge before he tackled him again. He limped away in retreat as Senator Steven Armstrong looked on with a sickeningly smug grin.   
"Child's play!" he laughed.   
"Fuck you... your mum," Raiden grunted, his comebacks being poorer than usual because he simply didn't have the energy.   
He staggered back to World Marshall HQ as stealthily as he could in desperate need of a healing item. A nanopaste was useless to him; he'd gone through that many that his tolerance had built up to the point where he was pretty much immune. He needed something new and stronger or at the very least a few hours sleep. Finally he found a deserted dark room he could hide in and as luck would have it, it just so happened to be the Nanomachines storeroom!   
Ha! Now he could give that smug bastard of a senator a good beating. He rifled through the boxes until he found the rock solid, super strength ones that Armstrong used.   
"Nanomachines be fucked!" he chuckled as he helped himself to a heap of them.   
He was about to leave but realised that the half empty box would arouse suspicion immediately. He would have to bulk them back up so it would look untouched but with what?  
Ahh... those bathsalts he had picked up in Denver as a gift to Rose for a romantic night in. He had found a better use for them to enhance his Ripper mode but he'd descended so far into his true nature he didn't even need them anymore. They were perfect for cutting with the Nanomachines and it was impossible to tell that they had been tampered with. Now Raiden was the one to be smug!

Meanwhile, out in the Japanese gardens, Monsoon was relaxing under the trees after a hard day throwing helicopters and shattering peoples' realities. There was nothing he liked more than trawling the net for memes and listening to music and that was just what he intended to do with his evening. Peace and quiet and much needed time alone. To make things even better some mushrooms had just sprouted at the foot of the tree, which could only mean one thing: destination utopia!  
"Mmm nature," he said, stuffing handfuls into his mouth. Being Cambodian and a former worker in the drug trade, he was no stranger to getting high and natural highs were the best. When he wasn't hacking people to bits, he was a peaceful, enlightened being who loved expanding minds.  
Tonight's musical choice was Songs for Sanity by John 5, the legendary guitarist (Monsoon loved an awesome guitar solo).   
"Exquisite," he mused.  
As he guzzled down mushroom after mushroom he got thinking about the song meanings on the John 5 album. The theme seemed to be Ed Gein... The killer that had robbed graves and used body parts as furniture... He had most certainly lost his mind. Had he grown up on killing fields too? Were there killing fields in Wisconsin? He must have been exposed to some pretty ghastly memes to have done something like that. What was wrong with people? They really were diseased... Was there any hope for humanity? Further investigation was needed. He tapped Ed Gein into Google and to his sheer delight an Ed Gein meme popped up!  
'I want to make a lampshade out of your flesh... because you light up my life!'  
'Had a meat dress before Lady Gaga.'  
A huge, slightly twisted grin spread over his face. Those mushrooms were kicking in now and he found himself giggling uncontrollably like a little schoolgirl.   
"What are you laughing at candy ass?"   
Armstrong's loud bellowing voice interrupted his thoughts.   
"Oh, nothing," he answered, hiding the screen on his laptop and trying to compose himself. He figured Armstrong more than likely did not share his sadistic, mushroom-induced sense of humour.   
To his annoyance, he sat down, loosened his tie and sparked up a cigar. It seemed he planned on chilling with him for a while. Monsoon hoped his loud, opinionated nature wouldn't interfere with his mushroom-meme buzz. Armstrong opened up a fresh batch of Nanomachines that he had got from the storeroom, (unbeknownst to him they were laced with bathsalts) and injected a huge shot into his bulging arm. Ugh... his Nanomachine habit was getting worse every day and they seemed to be making him more and more angry.   
"Ahh... that saucy Jack. I'm gonna knock him out again later," he said.   
"Yeah..." Monsoon mumbled unenthusiastically as he discreetly slipped a headphone in for more John 5.   
Armstrong didn't understand; there was a war going on underneath his shiny red dome. A war between the intensifying mushroom cloud and keeping his maniacal grin under control. He didn't have any mind power left to listen to his boasts.   
The Senator puffed on his cigar as a cherry blossom fell from above and landed on his shoulder. He grunted in disgust and flicked it away then began ranting and raving about the trees again and how the people who had designed the garden were pansies and that he could snap the president in two... blah blah. And to think, Monsoon was the one always being accused of waffling on! Monsoon couldn't help noticing he was grinding his teeth a little and spoke with a touch more aggression than normal but he just put it down to Raiden winding him up.   
He nodded politely and pretended to listen. His concentration drifted further away as the mind altering plants seeped through his brain. The memes... The Ed Gein meme was most amusing.   
No! The corners of his lips began to curl as his grin refused to be tamed. Magnetised back to the laptop, he could not resist lifting the lid for another cheeky peek and there before his artificial eyes, was another meme!  
'The awkward moment when Ed Gein gives you a lampshade.'  
That was it. Defeated by nature, he burst into fits of uncontrollable, maniacal, psychotic laughter. Armstrong turned and glared at him, beads of sweat forming on his oversized forehead and chest beating hard. His jaw appeared to have been wound as tightly as possible without it snapping off and behind his specs, his eyes were glowing red and wild. Monsoon was unsure whether or not he was hallucinating or if Armstrong really did look like a wild feral beast.   
"What's so funny you little shit?" he bellowed in his face, his cheeks flushing as red as his eyes.  
He snatched the laptop off him and saw the screen full of Ed Gein memes. As Monsoon suspected, he wasn't a fan. His face was so tightly contorted that he probably could not have laughed even if he had wanted to.   
"You freak," he snapped at him.   
Monsoon giggled, "Wind blows... rain falls... and the strong make the weak into furniture."  
Armstrong looked unimpressed. He ripped his tie off and unbuttoned his shirt as the sweating intensified. He was as red as a beetroot.   
"Grrr... hungry," he uttered what sounded like a growl.   
"There's some mushrooms left," the shroomed Monsoon grinned.  
"Hmph. Pansy! I don't want that candy ass hippy shit. Meat. Grr..."  
"Meat?" did he just hear him right? Armstrong was certainly behaving very strangely.   
He continued to grunt incoherently about meat while his eyes darted around wildly. He couldn't figure out why he was feeling this way. His senses seemed to have abandoned him and all he could think about was food, the raw, fleshy kind. Yet despite devolving, an intense energy was rushing through him that made him feel almighty and ready to conquer the world... with his bare hands. He would happily sacrifice some of his sense to have this supreme power! He studied the psychotic cyborg sitting next to him scanning him for food. He didn't look very appetising at all. He was mostly made of magnets, which wouldn't digest very well even with his Nanos. The only part of his flesh that was visible had a slightly demonic drug-addled grin spread across it. Plus he had that weird purple Lorentz aura about him. And the hair. Too much hair. He decided to pass. What the hell? Why was he even considering eating Monsoon? Something had gone seriously wrong.   
"Would you mind not looking at me like that?" Monsoon asked, unnerved.   
Armstrong stood up and turned away, trying to distract himself from his craving for flesh but instead tripped over the stump of the tree and face planted the floor. This sent him into a whirlwind of unstoppable fury as he spewed more profanities over his hatred of the layout of the Japanese garden.   
"FUCK! This fucking fancy pants reception area makes me sick! ARHHHH!!! GRRAARHHH Meat! When I get my hands on that candy ass! Grrrflesh!! I will tear them apart with my bare fucking hands and feast on his flesh! Fuck all of it! ROOOOAAAAAARHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!"  
Monsoon shook his head in despair. Armstrong was overly masculine and aggressive at the best of times but whatever was in those nanomachines had transformed him into a monster firing off nothing but bad vibes. Bad vibes and mushrooms were not good bed fellows so he decided to speak up:   
"If you feel that strongly about it, why don't you redecorate? It's up to you to take charge of your own life and change the things you are not happy with. Don't be a pawn, you are the boss here, is that correct?"  
"Hmph," grunted Armstrong who had stopped listening after the first sentence (Monsoon did tend to waffle a bit) he responded with, "Meat."  
Monsoon ignored the weird remark and continued, "Yes, we could revamp the place. A little dining area near the pond would certainly look exquisite."  
Suddenly a dark epiphany flashed in his mind. The memes. The Gein Memes. Furniture. Made with body parts. A mischievous smirk appeared on his face... Why not pass a meme on to Armstrong?   
"I was just looking at a unique style of furniture online. We could do our own Desperado designs - Lampshades, tables, chairs, accessories; whatever you wanted. They would be one of a kind: limited edition. It could be good for business. That's definitely a pretty meme!"  
Armstrong pushed his specs up his nose and rubbed his chin as he pondered the suggestion. Monsoon could hear his teeth grinding together as his mouth watered.   
"Flesh. Yes!" he bellowed triumphantly raising a flaming fist. "I have a dream! I will control my own destiny and shape this garden as I see fit! Wipe the slate clean! BURN IT DOWN!! ARRHH I'll rebuild this garden following my own rules and what I believe in! From the ashes, a new Japanese garden will be born evolved, untamed with the weaklings we purge as furniture! This garden will be great again!! Grr.... RAAHHHH!"  
He cocked his leg up at an 180degree angle and slammed it down in triumph. Monsoon smiled in agreement. Holy shit, even he had the fear driven into him by Armstrong's bloodthirsty, violent mood. For once, he was thankful that he was cyborg or he may have been on the menu.   
"What do you think son?" Armstrong's tone softened as he sparked up another cigar. "What do you say me and you enjoy a banquet tonight? We will feast on the weak! You know Monsoon, you do babble on sometimes and you're the most fucked up person I've ever met but you're a real asset and your guidance more than makes up for your flaws. I think you deserve a reward."  
Monsoon's face lit up. A new set of armor? His own Metal Gear perhaps? His joyful expression soon fell as Armstrong pulled out a shot of the dreaded Nanomachines and held it out to him.   
"Nanomachines, son. Limited edition, take a shot and become indestructable!"  
Monsoon hesitated. He switched to augmented reality mode to examine the syringe because nanomachines sure as hell weren't meant to transform the subject into flesh hungering raging beasts. Armstrong may not have cared about his dignity but he did. What... No way! How was that even possible?  
50% Nanomachines (super strength)  
60% Bath salts!!!  
"No!" he cried but it was too late. Armstrong had injected the concoction into his neck.   
Monsoon sighed in despair. He would fight with every ounce of his being not to turn into a bloodthirsty cyborg 'zombie'. Hopefully all the magic mushrooms he'd eaten would be counter productive of them. In any case, it was done now, he may as well enjoy the ride whatever it entailed. Armstrong wrapped his arm around his shoulders, almost crushing him under his weight,   
"Kindred spirits... you and I."


End file.
